I Can't Be Perfect
by tagalonglovers
Summary: A girl is kidnapped and killed by her psychotic sister and her deranged Boyfriend. Her death is a little to close to home for Tony...Ch.7 is up!
1. Cause we Lost it All

Title: I Can't be Perfect

Author: TigerLily1221

Summary: A girl is kidnapped and killed by her psychotic sister and her deranged BF. Her death brings up some bad memories for a member of the team.

Warnings: Abuse…death…depression

Genre: Angst/Suspense

AN: Further into the chapters there are going to be references to my first fic _No One_. You don't have to read it to understand because it will the actual flashbacks.

Disclaimer: Is there a NCIS catalogue?

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Omgomgomg! I accidentally deleted my entire story while trying to delete my other one. I'm so sorry to everyone that reviewed. And I'm so sorry! I was uploading the third chapter and deleting the other. I'm so sorry!

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Chapter 1-Cause we Lost it All 

The thunder and lighting that threatened to bring rain for three hours earlier seemed to break open the sky. Its heavy weight fell to the ground below with pings of intensity, raining like bullets upon the small cottage near a lake and a large forest.

Lily McNamara was afraid. Her head was spinning and she was breathing hard. Her salty, moist tears were sprinkled down her pale cheeks and onto the sparkly, tight blue woven sweater she wore. Her small delicate hands were twisted behind her back and tied with a thick boating rope.

God, she couldn't honestly believe what was happening. She had just gone out to have some drinks with her friends to wash out her old boyfriend and wound up getting mugged and kidnapped. It seemed that she had just so much luck.

She snorted and shook her head trying not to choke on the dirty rag stuffed in her mouth. The large brown wood door creaked in response and Lily stilled.

Trying to stop the whimper rumbling in her throat she bit harder down on the gag. She knew who was coming, the man who had done it to her.

He was so familiar but she couldn't place him. She could have sworn that his voice, that croaky, hoarse voice she'd heard it before.

"Girlie, do you want to play?" the voice whispered. She shivered and gulped rather loudly. The man crept into the room slowly, his left leg trailing behind him with a theatrical limp. He wore a black suit, complete with black gloves and a black ski mask.

"Mahhf" she muttered her words muffled. He laughed—no cackled—at her vain attempt to save herself. It was a pointless effort, she wasn't going to leaver her alone. That was the reason she was here…no to be his play toy.

"Of course you do," he seemed to ignore her remark and leaned down next to the door where a box was situated. He pulled out a dagger with a shiny pointing, very threatening looking blade. He fingered it gently and placed it next to the Lily's left arm. He trailed it down the length of her forearm causing gooseflesh to appear on her skin. He picked it up and grinned happily. He started it at her shoulder and did the same thing except he added more pressure to the tip, creating tears in her skin. She gasped in pain. He seemed pleased with the results and pressed even harder, resulting in a frightened agony filled shriek.

Her crimson blood flowed out of the slit with the likeness of a waterfall. A red, polluted dizzying waterfall. He laughed again at her face, her blonde hair frizzy and her pupils were dilated from non intended drug use and blood loss from previous wounds.

"Ohh, don't cry precious. I know you like it."

He then pulled out a second tool of death. This time it was a small metal bat. He lifted it up and tested its weight. He grinned and flung down.

The first time it hit she had closed her blue eyes knowing the pain to come. She had played softball and had also been at the brunt of an angry ten year old sore loser. The bat hit her right leg with a sickening bang. She could almost feel her knee bone shatter at the contact. She burst with another angry pain filled cry.

The bat hit her many more times softer than the first hit. Some times it hit her fleshy stomach, others to her legs but not a single one to her head. She felt every single one of the hits and it took all of her willpower to not faint and scream and cry.

It wasn't much use. She was already in so much agony that it didn't matter which way she was led into unconsciousness. She yearned to be in her warm, not painful escape. It was so much more peaceful than the shack.

He leered at her through her unwoven top which clearly so the stuffed bra and flat now bruised abs. She flinched at his touch, the tender soft almost comforting touch.

Not a single tear fell down her face as he continued to pet and prod her body. She wasn't about to give in to his sick overly sexual fantasy. If she remained strong and maybe she didn't give in than maybe just maybe he would let her go.

He stopped suddenly a loud when a shout came from somewhere above her. He smiled, showing only some of his teeth. Oddly enough, they weren't abnormally arranged and yellowing as she expected a killer's teeth to look like. They were a brilliant pearly white and arranged in perfect little rows. His eyes, large orbs of brown, lit up and hissed a soft goodbye before slamming the door and turning the key in the lock.

After he had scampered up the stairs, the room was just as eerily quiet as before. The room was small and square shaped. It was a godsend that she wasn't claustrophobic. There was only one small window about the size of a cereal box. She was underground, below the surface, under the scenes. She could barely see anything outside for it was pitch black outdoors. She couldn't scream nobody would hear her and the obvious reason of the gag. She could only listen and pray that she knew where she was.

Even that wasn't a very good plan. Her knee was shattered and there was no possible way she could walk on it. Besides the blood loss was making her light headed.

She was very glad that her team leader wasn't there even her teammates. She was already ridiculed for being a picture perfect blonde and the added effect of not having a body built to kick criminal ass was just a sad bonus of not having the look of a Special Agent.

It was an annoying factor that she dealt with on a daily basis but she had wanted to be a special agent since they made an appearance at her high school. She dealt with it and worked through the problems. She even showed off when she was the one who figured out who did it.

On the other hand, she felt so lonely and scared that even dealing with Special Agent Tyler's teasing was good enough for her. She couldn't stand being in the space. She just wanted to be home. A small helpless sob burst from her throat. She wanted to be curled into bedroom reading a romance novel that her mother rolled her eyes at. She even would be with her estranged sister, Aurora.

At the thought of her sister she sighed her sob caught in her throat. Her sister had died so long ago. Not physically but emotionally. She had once been a very happy bubbly child before Lily was born. She had been their parents pride and joy. She was loud and pretty baby. She had been playful and energetic. When Lily was born three years after her adorableness seemed to have been forgotten.

As they grew, Lily had strove forward in the beauty and intelligence portion. She had perfect grades, talents and friends none of which Aurora had. Her almost perfection had made Lily become the favorite among teachers and family. Unknowing how to deal with the pain of loss, she began to fuel a small fire known as anger and resentment. She had closed up all of her emotion and become unfeeling. She still could perform ordinary tasks but put absolutely knew no emotion other than anger.

She had originally tried working in a preschool hoping to stop her overly suicidal (homicidal?) nature but it hadn't lasted long. She couldn't be around such happy kids all day long it practically killed her internally. She couldn't stand being with the children who were sheltered from the injustices of the real world. The naivety of children who thought that the world was full of rainbows and sunshine were instead of uplifting her growing depression and resentment seemed to cause it to fall even more.

The two were as different as sisters possibly could be. Lily was blonde haired and blue eyed. She was thin and tall. She excelled at math and sciences. She was had an intricate, logical way of thinking that helped with her profession and she could often try to get in the head of a criminal. Aurora was black haired and hazel eyed. She was shorter and not as thin. She wasn't very smart and enjoyed writing and creative activities like acting and painting instead.

Lily thoughts were stopped by the thumping of two sets of footfalls coming down the stairs, which froze her. The lock once again scratched opened and the door creaked open.

"Good morning princess. Did you miss me?" the second mystery voice asked. The voice was deep and husky but clearly feminine. The woman wore the same ensemble as the man but her mask was rolled all the way down her face, not showing her mouth.

"Mah moah mahh." She cried out. The woman laughed harshly and gestured to the first man.

"I think she wants us to play with her." The woman's voice dropped the huskiness and Lily gasped as she recognized the woman.

The woman laughed again at the sharp intake of air. "Jimmy, I think she recognized us." Instead of the shock or surprise Lily expected the woman to have she actually sounded pleased. "Jimmy take out the gag and pull off your mask and gloves. Let Ms. Perfect say a few words before her demise."

'Jimmy' leaned forward and pulled out the wet rag while he pulled off the mask. Simultaneously, Jimmy and the woman pulled off the masks and gloves. He nodded at Aurora and left the room quickly.

"Why? Please just tell me why?" Lily cried. Aurora stopped and gazed down at her, her crisp hazel eyes full of an emotion. It was the first time in a long time that she even showed anything other than anger. The emotion scared her it was pure…enjoyment.

Lily squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the muzzle of a gun against her forehead. She cried quietly, her training to become a Special Agent forgotten. Aurora pulled the trigger easily and simply slipped back out of the door as her blood splattered around the tiny room.

The room was no longer black and dark but now covered in bright crimson blood. Aurora smiled evilly and reentered the room looking down at her sister slumped in the chair.

She was dead, clearly extremely dead. Her eyes were open and glassy. Her blonde hair fanned around her head turning a reddish blonde color from the thick blood she was laying in. Her leg lay next to her limp and at an odd angle. Her body was covered in bruises and the wound from only minutes ago on her arm was slit open, more blood pooling from that wound too.

She sniffed tiredly the word echoing from only seconds before.

_Why? Please just tell me why?_

Aurora's mouth quivered as she tucked the gun into the hands of her long dead sister. A single tear trickled down her cheek and she chanced one last look before closing the door.

"Because you had everything."

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I don't know if this is good/too confusing/horrible so please review and tell me how it is. I promise that next chapter will be more about the team members and the memories I promised. 

Now to make this even better I need a beta for **another story** that I have written even more! I have absolutely no clue where to find one so please contact me if you're interested.

Thank you very much for your support that I know someone will give me!!

Luvs,

Ari


	2. Never Gonna Be Good Enough For You

Title: I Can't be Perfect

Author: TigerLily1221

Disclaimer: It seems like I don't own anything…this sucks.

Chapter 2-Never Gonna Be Good Enough for You

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It was almost two weeks before anyone found her. She was hidden in a part of the house that the real owners didn't dare go into, for fear of dying. It was actually a fluke that she was found at all. The couples' six year old twins had mistakenly played in the trapdoor room of the 'badly in need of renovations' guest house, on their four acre land near the Lake community. They had run out screaming in fear only minutes later.

After several minutes of sobbing and comforting one another, the younger one of the two, a little girl named Lani, finally blurted out to her confused mother that they had found a dead body. The husband called the police and they in turn called NCIS.

Being on the shore of Lake Natas was not Anthony DiNozzo's idea of a vacation. That would have been lying on sandy warm beach, not a windy, wet, rocky shore of a deep, fish filled, murky lake.

"You know Ziva I still don't understand how someone can consider this a vacation home." he muttered as he leant down and snapped a few photos of the tools surrounding the front room.

"It may not be pretty Tony, but some people actually consider lakes to be a relaxing retreat from the busy city of DC. I think that it's the concept of not being at home that makes people say it's a vacation." McGee answered. Ziva sniggered quietly behind her own camera.

"I'm sure you had a vacation house. Didn't you?" She asked. "I mean your father had lots of money. I'm sure while McGee's father struggled to save his house you were skiing down the Alps."

"Yeah I guess so, but not skiing. I stink at skiing. I'm more of a Maui surfer type of guy." He said, flashing a quick grin. McGee and Ziva's head both met with a roll of the eyes.

"Of course you are DiNozzo, couldn't be anything less. I never pictured you dressed in jacket and all of the equipment needed for skiing. You like to show yourself off." Gibbs exclaimed as he walked into the cottage. McGee stepped out of the way knowing what Gibbs was going to do. Tony didn't turn around and instead snapped a picture of a dirty shovel.

Gibbs stepped behind Tony and with one slap on the back of his head, caused him to jump and howl loudly, whilst bringing a hand up to rub the aching spot.

"You've slapped me what… five million times already? Boss, couldn't you have chosen someplace that doesn't have so many scars?" Gibbs stared at him incredulously. "I'll take that as a no. Moving on…" McGee and Ziva chuckled quietly. They took off the cameras dangling from their necks and pushed them into their bags knowing that they would be the lucky ones going through the trapdoor.

Shaking his head with disbelief Gibbs continued. "I know that we all had the day off and you would rather be doing other things than process a murder," Gibbs let his eyes slip to Tony and grimaced slightly at the things he imagined Tony was thinking. "But the director specifically asked us to process this murder quickly and efficiently. She wants to give the parents as much solace as she can without ruining their daughter's image."

"Who is it?" McGee asked. The only time that the Director specifically asked for only Gibbs' team was when it was a person of a high position or a fellow agent.

"Special Agent Lily McNamara" he said. The three gasped almost in unison. It always seemed a greater tragedy when it was a friend. They might not be part of the same team but they had worked together with her supervisor during a marine massacre only a couple of months ago. Tony had unsuccessfully tried to flirt with the gutsy blonde. "You three have to take pictures of the body and its surroundings before Ducky and Palmer get here. It will be hard enough getting it up the stairs; we don't need Ducky breaking a hip bone while we're at it." The three nodded and one by one set out down the hole.

They nodded. It wasn't the place or time to pipe one of there usual jokes about Ducky's outstanding physique for his age.

Ziva went down first and slipped quietly down the metal poled ladder. She descended quickly and landed softly and gracefully at the bottom, her backpack banging against her backside as she bounced down.

She moved a few feet from the ladder toward the body, the stench of it being unbelievable! She had been an NCIS agent for almost two years, a Mossad agent for even longer; she had dealt with death on an every day basis. But the simple stench made her want to projectile vomit.

She leaned down and pulled out a small can of salve from her bag. Putting some around her nose she groaned when little relief came to stop the smell.

McGee scooted off of the ladder only a few seconds later. He stepped closer to Ziva and turned pale.

"Wow, how long has she been dead?" he asked, taking his own finger of salve that Ziva generously offered. Ziva snorted.

"Well, for a while, unless you can't tell the smell is a bit of a clue. Here I was thinking that you were so smart McGee. You could have fooled me."

"I think he means 'exactly' Ziva" Tony called from above. He shouldered his backpack and took off his sunglasses tucking them into his shirt. He leaned down and began to climb down also.

"We won't know until Ducky can get the liver temp. From the smell we can assume a few days. I'm thinking a week maybe more." McGee said, bending down to get out some supplies.

"Very good, Probie. What about the effects of being in a closed off house?" Tony added. He placed his own backpack next to theirs and took out a flashlight shining it along the wall to the girl whose pallor was turning slightly gray.

She had been an attractive looking girl when she was alive. Her bright blue eyes were the color of the Mediterranean, and she had dyed her hair a honey blonde. Now her hair was dirty and well... she didn't look very appealing with a bullet hole in her forehead.

"Well, it might have stopped the flies from getting in here. For all we know she could have been dead for months or days."

"McGee!" Ziva said. "This is an old house. Do you really know how many rat holes there are?"

"No" he said dejectedly.

"Not to mention termites and other things that eat through the wood for fun," Tony muttered.

"So I guess this means that we probably won't be home early today will we?" McGee questioned dejected. Ziva and Tony looked at each other and exchanged interested glances.

"Oh really Probie, so what's the big rush?" Tony asked, shining his flashlight into the corners of the room. He spotted a rag in the far corner. It was dirty, a ratty blue color that was stained red, maybe from a blanket? He picked it up between two gloved fingers and placed it in an evidence bag.

"Oh…um nothing." He muttered unconvincingly. He crouched down on his knees and snapped a few photos of the weapon. He tugged at the gun but the hand held it in a firm grip.

"Oh really McGee?" Ziva laughed. She picked up two trace fibers on the sweater the girl wore. She placed them into a smaller evidence bag and placed it in her own bag for safety. She turned around the other side of the chair careful not to step in the blood as she photographed the former agent's tied hands.

"Yes, its nothing." McGee blushed. "You know McGee we're trained to know when people are lying and I get his odd feeling that you're lying to us." Ziva smirked.

"I swear its nothing. My parents are visiting and they just wanted to see me to get some dinner..." Tony nodded along with Ziva no longer paying attention. He went through the crime scene procedures like clockwork. He didn't have to pay attention.

_1986- Maui, Hawaii_

_Young Tony walked aimlessly around the hotel. The Maui Hilton was a big boring place for a twelve year old who was way too energetic for his own good. His father was holed up in some big meeting and there was nothing for Tony to do but explore. _

_He had he hotel key car and cash in his pocket that was burning a hole through the lining as if it was just begging to be used. _

_He crept quietly through the large doors and into the Hawaiian sunshine. The sun beat down upon his small uncovered body tanning him. It was such a nice day. It was warm, hot even, and sunny with clear skies for another week with just a beautiful sea breeze blowing through his unkempt hair._

_He wandered aimlessly for almost an hour when he spotted a small sign colorfully decorated for the Lauihauna beach. He bolted forward to the sign. _

_He entered onto the beach and it was nothing he had thought it would look like. The sand was as white as ever and large white seashells were delicately lying on the sand every few feet. The sand nearer to the incoming waves had clear to bright green sea glass near the waters blending into the even brighter teal Pacific Ocean. _

_They were very different from the Long Island northern shores. Even the southern shore of Jones beach wasn't that sandy and beautiful. It was like a dream. The rocky and the medium shore was nothing compared to Hawaii. _

_Surprisingly, the beach was nearly empty. Only the occasional newlywed couple would lie next to each other and hold hands or an older family but that was all. _

_He traipsed slowly through the hot sand. It seemed even hotter once he had fully wasted his time just basking in the sun. He turned to the small shack that was set up further along the beach. It was a small building, looking like it was barely four feet wide. Once he was inside and in clear position of the fan he cooled down. He sat on one of the chairs near the bar. An older woman and a younger man, maybe her son, were talking and shouting to each other in Hawaiian. The younger man whooped gleefully and left, throwing his apron down on the ground and picking up a surf board._

"_What can I do for you? I'm Kikki" the woman asked, her tone brisk but her voice soft and worn. He glanced up and met the woman's wise brown eyes filled with compassion. _

"_Do you have any pineapple juice?" he asked softly. He had always been a shy child. That's what he was known for at school, as the shy boy. He barely talked and was quite smart. _

"_Oh, how original." She muttered, her tone now challenging. "Hmm... You look adventurous. I would suggest you try the Pineapple Kiwi juice. It's quite delicious." _

_He nodded eagerly. It actually sounded quite good. The woman nodded and moved away, her eyes not leaving his face as she began to mix the ingredients to make the juice. _

"_Sweetie, do you like to surf?" She asked suddenly. He looked up from the drink she had placed in front of him. He shook his head. That was the problem with being the only other person in the shack. The woman felt compelled to talk to him. That was part of her culture, to be compassionate, and caring. _

"_No, I've never tried before." he said. The woman smiled happily. "When Kalo gets back we will let him teach you. Sounds good, yes?" He had nodded afraid of what would happen if he had told her no that he didn't want to surf._

_Fifteen minutes later, Kalo returned to the shack, still in his swimsuit and his hair was still damp. The older woman hurriedly whispered to Kalo is Hawaiian. The younger man smiled instantly, eager to have someone to teach. _

_And so it began. In a week and two days, Tony was surfing every day while his father was busy at meetings. He was getting better. On the second day he could stand on the board without any help and by the sixth day he was able to ride the waves. _

_He loved being in the ocean. The waves washing up on the beach, the warm moist air that smelt like salt and fresh water, it was like a dream come true. _

_Until his father ended his dream by remembering that he had left his son in Hawaii by accident. Accident…my ass!_

_His father had come stomping onto the sand after a doorman said he saw Tony running towards the beach. His father in his Armani suit and perfectly shiny brand name shoes that squeaked when he walked had bounded onto the beach while his son was surfing. He caught him just at the perfect moment. He was exactly on the wave's perfect peak at its crest. He stayed on the wave, balancing on the lapping water. When the wave crashed and knocked him off of the board, instead of questioning whether he was alright and complimenting his excellent skills, he dragged him home to the rocky shore leaving the sandy beaches, warm breezes and pineapple kiwi juice a distant memory. _

"Are you almost done down there?" Gibbs shouted, shifting Tony from his daze to focus back on his work.

The three looked at each other, and shrugged. "Just about. We'll meet you up there." Ziva shouted back. Gibbs must have turned in just the right direction to redirect the sun's rays because all of a sudden Tony was hit with a flashing reflection. He squinted carefully and a smile rose onto his lips.

"Hey hey. Look what I found." He turned on the flashlight as Ziva and McGee turned to him. He bent down and cocked is head to the side to see the bullet properly. The small bullet was lodged into the wooden wall of the cottage. Tony snatched tweezers from McGee's outstretched hand. He put the silver tongs around the bullet and tugged.

Nothing.

He gripped tighter and yanked.

The bullet came out of the hole with a slight _pop_ noise, it was completely destroyed. The entire metal butt seemed to have folded over leaving barely any trace except a five cm gorge in the wood.

It seemed that this wasn't going to be an easy case at all.

The team left the room after about five more minutes of printing, photographing, and tagging. They were leaving for the surrounding stores and clubs.

Tony was last out of the cottage. He stood gazing at the murky water, reminiscing about his childhood memories of Kalo and Kikki. It took all of his willpower not to scream and jump on the next plane that was heading towards Hawaii. He wanted so badly to be in the hot blistering sun, and hear the waves lapping on the shore as he digs his bare feet into the warm sand.

"You coming DiNozzo? Or are you going to stare into that lake for the next month?" Gibbs asked sharply. It seems that the team hadn't left the area yet and were waiting for him. Tony shook his head to clear his wandering thoughts and turned to Gibbs.

"Yeah." He said. Gibbs turned and walked away. "I guess I have to."

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Here's the second chapter. I would like to thank anyone that reviewed. I hope this chapter interested people more than the last one.

All of the mistakes I made in this chapter are of my own accord, it was beta-ed my the ever so lovely sharkysheep!

And most of what I said about Hawaii is indeed true. One of my best friends is Hawaiian and she had told me about their caring, compassionate, friendly culture!

Luvs, Ari


	3. You Can't Change Me

Title: I Can't be Perfect

Author: TigerLily1221

Disclaimer: I only own the characters that aren't recognizable.

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Chapter 3- You Can't Change Me 

"So, Mr. McNamara, does your daughter have any enemies or people that would want to hurt her?" The older man sitting across from Gibbs shook his head uncertainly.

"Special Agent my daughter was special agent also. I have no clue how many killers she put behind bars regularly. You probably know better than me how many enemies she's made within the last week." He said sadly.

"We understand completely, Mr. McNamara." Ziva said. "How was she as a child?"

The John McNamara's face lit up at the mention of his young daughter's childhood. He stood up slowly, willing his old bones to catch up with what his mind planned for him to do. He walked slowly and carefully until he reached the mantle above the large stone fireplace.

There were many pictures lined up against the wall including a family portrait that showed the complete four members of the family. He gently took it off the hook and held it delicately in his hands along with two more pictures.

"My youngest daughter was the pride and joy in my life. She was a beautiful child and such a happy youngster. She and her younger sister Aurora were inseparable as young children. Aurora was born only three years earlier." He showed them a picture of two young girls.

It was easy to tell one apart from each other, they were very different. The five year old Lily was easy to spot. Her bright blonde curls were tied together with a pink ribbon on either side of her head and her blue eyes were wide. Her tiny mouth was open in an excited squeal of laughter that showed her missing two front teeth. The other girl, causing the little one to squeal was supposedly Aurora McNamara. She was bigger than the tiny five year old and was smiling just as vibrantly as the smaller child. She had long dark black hair and smaller amber colored eyes.

"My daughters grew apart as they grew older. Aurora, Rory, is more of a right side of the brain child. She's creative, exuberant, hates to read and do math, loves to draw. Making her go to school and do her homework was a chore. Lily is—was" he gulped and wiped at his eyes. " Just the opposite. She was a logical thinker, always had a right or wrong way of thinking, enjoyed reading and math. They were so different and I guess there differences were like a stake breaking the bedrock between them."

He laughed bitterly, sipping at the coffee mug in his hands. "You know the saying 'opposites attract'?" The two agents nodded. "It wasn't like that concerning my daughters. They were as different as ever and fought like cats and dogs. When Rory left for school there was no love lost between them. I think they were happy to get away from each other. I know I was, I couldn't stand their constant bickering."

He sorted into the cup, shaking his head. "What drives me mad is how contained Aurora's emotions were. She would never fight with anyone. She would always bicker with her sister but never with me or Leanne." He said gesturing to the separate picture of his wife on the table in the corner of the room.

He sighed and closed his eyes. He picked up a second picture, the one that was hanging above the wall. The family portrait seemed to be about ten years old. The two girls were no older than ten. The mother had the bright blonde hair of the youngest. It seemed that Aurora was out of the loop. The father had dark brown hair that was no where near the color of the oldest.

"My wife was a state known cardiologist. I'm a seismologist. I guess we were more supportive of the daughter that was trying to become something—I don't know—useful. I guess we let our opinion of successfulness instead of happiness. I guess we let our roles as parents slip and our favoritism shone through. Rory wanted to become an artist. Her passion was ceramics, I think, and painting. We thought it was unpractical and basically belittled her chosen career. I suppose that made her bitter because essentially showered her younger sister with praise when she got good marks and showed the beginnings of becoming a Special Agent."

"Personally, I always felt that both of my daughters were loving and had a healthy relationship with each other. I thought that all of the knick picking were just childhood antics. We were a loving family and happy. We might have been a little more caring and loving to Lily but on a much lesser scale we loved them about the same." John said with a note of finality.

He narrowed his eyes when he realized how shallow he appeared to the agents in front of him. He glared at them apprehensively as if waiting for one of them to mutter something disrespectful or rude about the upbringing of his children.

Ziva pursed her lips. Disgraceful, ignorant words that shouldn't be said to the victim's family were at the tip of her tongue just waiting to be expelled by the opening of her lips. More than anything she wanted to smack the man and ask what was the matter with wanting something else you're your life. In Israel, she couldn't do anything different because of the strict laws regarding natural borne citizens with the military and her father being the Director of the Mossad.

Gibbs nodded, his face bearing no emotion. It seemed that the entire team held up strict infallible masks. Gibbs was no exception. He was stoic and never move a muscle as the man finished his thought. Gibbs couldn't stand two things child killers and parents who insulted their children for being their own person. His opinion of the man was shrinking faster than it had built.

_Ahem._ "Mr. McNamara would you mind if I use your bathroom?" Ziva asked. She discreetly pulled out her flashlight and tucked it into her pant pocket where spare pair of gloves and small evidence bags were.

"What?" he asked. He glanced upward from the second picture frame and met Ziva's cool callous eyes. She repeated the question quietly her distaste barely hidden under the surface.

"Oh yes, its on the second floor, third door on the left. Lily has been trying to persuade me into selling this old house for years. My wife died two years ago just as Lily was accepted into the NCIS. Both of my hips have pins and I have arthritis in both ankles and knees. I can't go up the stairs anymore, I can't move around in my own house! I should probably sell it now that nobody lives here…"

Ziva smiled softly and turned to leave the room. It was so easy to lie about simple searches. So it wasn't totally legal but they could get an idea about what hidden secrets the family was hiding behind closed doors.

She spun around right before the door careful that she was directly behind the man's back and stared Gibbs right in the eye. If she didn't know him any better she would have never seen the small unsuspicious nod in her general direction.

She loudly made her way up the steps, careful to note the creaky stairs. She walked carefully down the hall, peeking into the first doorway, which turned out to be a closet. She searched it quickly noting how much time she had before Gibbs couldn't hold his attention and Mr. McNamara became suspicious.

There were six doors. Three on the left two on the right and one straight ahead. The first on the right was a linen closet and the second was the wife's office, completely intact from when she died. The old man probably didn't have enough heart to remodel and remake the last reminder of his wife.

There was nothing interesting in it. A Large leather roll chair was hidden behind an even larger mahogany desk. There were three file cabinets holding old patient files and bills of the household.

The third on the right was indeed a bathroom. A world class specialty bathroom. Silently saving an impressed whistle for later she closed the door.

She walked a few more paces and opened the door straight ahead. She had hit pay dirt. It was a large bedroom, with a small alcove near the bay window for a closet. She softly and quickly examined the room noting that it was the older daughter's bedroom. Large hand painted letters in bright purple spelled out the name _AURORA_. The room looked like a small tornado hit it. The black bed sheets was neatly made but what was on top of it was a mess. Piles of too small clothes lay in messy piles, shoes and scraps of paper lay together on the ground, apparently covering the lilac carpet. Even the small TV was a coat rack. A baker's hat was on the top, covered by a denim jacket.

Ziva lifted the end of the lilac bed skirt sneezing as the dust that had lain dormant for so long blew out from the surprise burst of air. She shone the flashlight underneath the bed and squinted through the uneven space. Small boxes littered the space plus even more piles of shoes. She pulled the closest box toward her and peered inside…more clothes. She pulled the second box toward her and smiled contently when three pint size notebooks fell off of another pile of clothes.

She opened them slowly and flipped quickly through the pages, they were all dated and were through only two years each.

She slipped the books in her backpack and slowly stood up. She crossed to the side near a second door that was open only a crack. She pushed it open, going motionless as the door creaked.

No other sound was heard except for the quiet murmuring downstairs. She sighed in relief and hurried into the next room. It was another, much smaller bathroom. It was a conjoining bathroom, which seemed to connect to Lily McNamara's bedroom.

She turned back to the mirrored medicine cabinet. She pulled it open and checked objects inside. They were all normal objects that teenage girls would have in their bathroom. A stack of tissues, four tooth brushes, toothpaste, and mouth wash. The bottom most shelf was medicine row. There were three bottles, all tightly capped and clear orange. She picked the smallest off the shelf and examined it. It was a half empty prescription bottle of the Lorazepam, the anti-anxiety drug. The medicine was prescribed to Aurora. The next two were also prescribed to her. Zoloft and Clozapine both used to treat depression and psychosis.

She stared at the bottles puzzled with what the father said about his daughters both being very healthy. She took out her camera that was still in the bag and snapped quick pictures of the bottles before quickly pulling open the container onto a spare piece of plastic wrap found in the cupboard. She pulled off three small slits and wrapped the pills individually.

The McNamara family seemed to have very interesting secrets. First they had very visible favoritism of the younger daughter than the older one was prescribed drugs to help her mental state. Oh this family seemed to have an ever growing pot of secrets just boiling on the rear burner.

She sneaked into Lily's childhood bedroom. This room was neat and tidy. A large bookcase was in the far corner along with a soft small armchair and a tall lamp. The middle of the room had a small bed that was made perfectly with care. Ziva opened the top drawer of her dresser; the clothes were perfectly folded all in the same direction.

The crazy cleanliness was increasing Ziva's suspicions that the young woman had some serious OCD. There was only Lily's own diary that Ziva photographed and took with her into her bag.

She had just closed the door to the bedroom when the men's voices seemed to be even closer than she thought. She could clearly hear Gibbs speaking very loud for the normal level and the thump of the footsteps on the stairs.

She just loved her sense of knowing time. She had made a thorough search of the entire room and still made it to meet the men coming of the stairs.

She dove into the bathroom angry that she had wasted time running through the office before. Her hands stayed on the edge of the sink as she subtly turned on the running water. She turned it off only seconds later and spun around opening the door while she turned off the light.

She exited the room slowly and pasted a surprised expression on her face as the men came into view.

"Oh, well look at that. I hope you too weren't waiting there for a while." She said shouldering her backpack and slipping past them. She proceeded to walk down the stairs an innocent grin on her face.

"Really? You take an awfully long time in the bathroom. I was in a house with three women and they never took that long." John McNamara muttered.

"Well than you know that women are in the bathroom for longer at certain times of the month," she said accentuating the last words. The older man's eyes widened with understanding and embarrassment.

"Well I think that we have enough information for know. Please if you know anything else give us a call. Stay in the city and do not leave until the investigation is over. Thank you for your time." Gibbs said smiling and shaking the man's hand.

They left the house and waited until they were in the car to collaborate notes.

"Well it seems that Mr. McNamara isn't as truthful as he wants you to believe." Ziva muttered. She opened her backpack and showed the photographs she had taken and the pills taken from the bottles she collected. "The older one, Aurora, had bottles of prescription drugs. They were dated only about five years."

"Interesting." Gibbs muttered plainly deep in thought. He drove the car normally and monotonously as he thought about the facts. " Mr. McNamara says adamantly that his other daughter didn't do it. He gave me her number and said that she is coming from Baltimore and will be here once she meets her father in about twenty minutes. Tony can take care of her interview when she comes."

"I have the feeling that this case is going to get very interesting." Ziva muttered holding onto the side of the car door as Gibbs tore down a street. "Very interesting indeed."

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Okay so I know that this chapter wasn't very entertaining but it was a filler that needed to be in here to establish the plot so please I promise that soon we will have more action and DiNozzo appearances and coworkerly (?!) banter. 

The next update will depend upon the reviewers opinions. If I don't get a lot of feedback than I'll think that you guys don't like it and well no more story so if you like it so far please give me some reviews!

Thanks for everyone's support.

Luvs, Ari


	4. But You Don’t Understand

Title: Flaws & Imperfections

Author: TigerLily1221

Disclaimer: I was thinking…do you think DBP would trade my old Pokemon cards for the characters of NCIS? I think its a fair trade...

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Chapter 4-But You Don't Understand 

The oldest daughter was pleased with herself. She took a generous amount of wine from the bottle and poured it into her wine glass. The long large glass filled to the top and she grinned as she took a delicate sip leaving her lipstick on the surprisingly clear glass.

Her head dipped downward from the glass and instead her mind moved, fascinated, to the freshly cleaned hands that were raw and red from a good hard scrubbing. It hadn't been easy getting rid of the grime and blood that was caked all over her clothes, in her hair and all over the rest of her body.

It was even more difficult to get rid of the bloodstains that seemed to have permanently stained her hands red. The instruments that she used to sculpt the clay were contaminated with her perfect sister's icky blood.

She had rubbed and rewashed her hands close to a thousand times yet it was only after nearly twenty minutes of scrubbing that some progress developed. The white Dove soap that smelt sweet turned the same pink color as the white bathroom towel that she had used. 'That was going to be hard to explain to her dry cleaner' she thought.

She hadn't meant to get herself all dirty. She hadn't planed around the weather conditions, especially thunderstorms. It had gotten suddenly cold and began raining frantically that day. The dirt and gravel mingled with the murky lake water creating muddy weed covered paths up to the cottage.

Aurora had planned to have James O'Connor, her partner in crime and fellow artist, mug her sister on the way home from the club and prick her in the neck with a sedative. She knew that she wouldn't have her "badge" or special "gun" on her.

She was supposed to come in hours later. She would walk in on O'Connor pounding her insolent, bratty whiny perfect sister until he broke that stone wall surrounding her and went for the gut. She actually had walked in on her crying helplessly; at least she had timed that right, despite the horrible traffic upstate.

Lily McNamara was in tears. Her face was a mess. Dried blood dripping from a cut in her mouth, and her face was bruised and swollen where James had slapped her during the mugging. Her knee looked even worse. She almost grinned gleefully knowing the pain a shattered kneecap felt like.

After shooting her in the head, she had decided to leave her Lily coming away with a free life almost six hours earlier than she had planned. It wasn't like she didn't need the time. She knew that the owners of the cottage wouldn't be coming back to the lake house until much later in the week when the children got off for summer break.

Now, she just had to wait for her father to call her and tell her the good—ahem, bad—news about her sister's 'unfortunate death'. It felt so invigorating killing her sister, with the sound of the cut off scream, the splatter of blood around the room. She was so caught up in the moment and maybe her own anger that she didn't feel even the slightest bit remorseful. It didn't make a difference. She had stopped feeling anything for Lily when Lily had entered fourth grade, around seventeen years earlier.

Ever since she was a child, Aurora hated Lily. As a young child before school, they were the best of friends, they would play together and talk in their made up language. When Aurora went to school, Lily cried because she wanted to come too. It was shocking how much Lily felt for her sister but Aurora had shushed her by saying that she would teach her everything she learned and played when she returned home.

That was her big mistake. She had taught Lily to tie her shoes and write her name before she was even four. Due to that Lily had skipped kindergarten and went right to first grade. She had already been posted as the five year old genius because she could add and write her name already. Her parents didn't mention that Lily didn't do it on her own accord; Aurora's input had been brushed aside.

The 'little girl' didn't say anything either. She never once mentioned that 'sissy' taught her. '_That little wuss'_, she just liked the attention that she got. Lily moved quickly through school. The wide eyed munchkin that used to be her naïve, all around happy little sister turned into a brilliant, pretty, outgoing teenager that had more parties and fun than Aurora ever had herself. It was depressing.

She scowled; thinking about her sister was ruining her euphoric mood like she usually did.

'_Hmm. Something different to think about.'_ It was smart to think about what she would do when the police came to question her.

She had to plan the right way to mislead the agents as it was only a matter of time before they questioned her involvement with her sister. Unless of cause she was so sincere that she totally threw the magnifying glass off of herself.

Her mother would be rolling in her grave if she knew now how she was using her acting classes. 'That would be a riot' she chucked silently to herself.

She could put those skills to the test and see how long she could fool the agents with her feigned sugary sweetness. If she acted dainty, sincere, and heartbroken then maybe she could stop them becoming suspicious of her. _'Hmm,'_ she could even have some fun while she did just that.

Aurora McNamara could be a very beautiful woman when she tried. She could also act very sincere and lovable when she wanted to. She was a manipulator. A force of nature that everyone had to deal with once in their life and that was just how the world spun.

Ms. McNamara walked into Gibbs' bullpen with an expression of pure sadness and disbelief. She wore her long black hair up in a clip and she was decked out in a tight black sweater that showed her curves beautifully and denim blue jeans with black boots. Her eyes were large and rimmed with red from crying.

"Excuse me could you please tell me where Special agent DiNozzo is? I'm supposed to be meeting him for some questioning." She asked softly to a young man that was concentrating quite hard on reading the case files Lily had been working on.

McGee looked up and met the woman's amber eyes. "You mean Anthony DiNozzo? Hold on just one moment he'll be here soon. I'm Special Agent McGee. You must be Aurora McNamara." The young woman nodded and looked over the man who was talking to her politely and sharing his sympathies. He couldn't be the one that her sister thought was hot looking. Sure he was cute in a baby sort of way but he wasn't hot and sexy.

Nope. Wrong one.

"Oh yes, thank you. It'll be hard but my father and I will get through this together. We always were a strong family. Thank you" She smiled and turned her head to end the conversation. The special agent watched her, a little baffled. He shrugged his shoulders, guessing that maybe she just needed some space.

"Hey Probie, where's Gibbs?" a voice shouted as a rather tall man came around the corner. Aurora turned around and watched the man eagerly. He had to be the one that she talked about. He was hot, he was tall, and he was an absolute flirt.

"No clue, but this is Aurora McNamara, Special Agent McNamara's sister. Gibbs said that you're supposed to ask her some questions about her sister." Special Agent DiNozzo shot a confused glance at McGee but smiled broadly, not even stopping his eyes from traveling down below her throat. She smiled shyly and stood up.

"Oh yes." He raised his eyebrows and grinned at McGee, who rolled his eyes and Tony's immature, unethical tactics to get a woman. "Come this way please."

The woman followed him eagerly to the interrogation room that was a little more private.

"I better not find you making out." McGee shouted and grinned as Tony threw a rude hand-gesture in the air as they walked to the door.

Tony sat down at the table and smiled at the young woman who was trying to stop herself from laughing out loud.

"I'm sorry for my colleague's rude comments. You can laugh now if you want." She shook her head.

"No, I'm good." She whispered as she fluttered her eyebrows seductively making sure that her sweater was low enough to make him drool over her breasts.

"Oh… ah…excellent. Ms. McNamara how was your relationship with your sister?" he asked flustered. He was a ladies' man but not many women threw themselves at him that quickly. Normally, he would have to flirt and sweet talk them into letting him buy them a drink first.

She sighed deeply and she let her gorgeous amber eyes fill with tears. "My sister and I have never had a great relationship." At his curious glance she continued. "My sister has always been the perfect child… practically perfect in almost everyway if you catch my drift." She sniffed disdainfully. Tony was a little taken back. The beautiful woman had changed her mood twice within the past five minutes. She had gone from shy to seductive to utterly hateful very quickly.

"Oh yes. I understand." He nodded encouragingly. "Please continue."

"Anyway, my sister was very pretty, smart and confidant, but I bet you know that from working with her." She smiled softly trying not to visibly show her anger or show him her resentment toward her sister. But from how the Special Agents' eyes kept traveling downward and he barely showed any signs that he was surprised by her comment, she didn't think he would be a problem to twist around her finger.

"I on the other hand, wasn't in the spotlight that my sister was in. I had resented her as a young teen but as times changed I realized the trouble that came with my way of thinking. I made up with my sister and well… I'm a changed woman. I'm engaged to my associate, James, and well my life couldn't be anymore perfect." Almost every word in the sentence was a lie. She hated her sister and always would, no questions asked. She could only take James in small doses otherwise he would be in the cemetery plot next to her sister and her life was far from perfect.

God, she sounded like a damn shrink. _Trouble with my ways…Changed woman…_she nearly choked on the water the agent had generously provided for her.

Tony nodded thoughtfully, amazed at how well the young woman lied. He would have bought every single sentence without a single doubt. Only problem was that the twitching of the muscle beneath her eye and the too mellowy way she was answering the questions as if they had been rehearsed was a dead give away of her lies.

"Do you know if your sister had any enemies or problems that she might have told you about?" Before she could stop herself a sarcastic bark of laughter left her lips. She covered it up with the excuse of a coughing fit and smiled apologetically.

"Very sorry I have crazy bad autumn allergies." He nodded knowingly. "Now that you mention it she said that there was a man that teased her relentlessly. She said that he was very forceful with her and not nearly enough gentlemen like." The lie slipped off her tongue like rain from a cloud. "I'm not sure what his name was. Is there a Mark Flippers? Martin Ryppers? Martin Tilmer?" she asked trying to recall the name of the man that her sister used to always complain about teasing her.

"There's a Special Agent Martin Tyler." He suggested working very hard to keep the muffled laughter in his throat. This woman was a riot. Martin Tyler was known for being playful but it wasn't meanly. Lily joined along in his teasing and enjoyed it.

It was like Ziva and Tony. Tony would get on Ziva's nerves then she would throw something at him and soon enough they would all be happy and pushing each other's buttons again. It was the only way to regain peace and stay grounded with this job.

"Yes! That's the name. She never said anything about enemies but she did mention a Martin Tyler."

Tony nodded again, making a mental note to question Special Agent Tyler about the supposed acts of forwardness. From the ways the many lies were coming from the woman, he could barely make out what were the truths.

"Gosh! My sister's death is bringing such painful memories." She whispered, breathing deeply, her voice quaking from the effort.

"What kind of memories?"She wasn't lying now. No twitch or forced answer. This was real.

"Oh you know. It's very much like my mother's death. She and my sister were killed only about five days apart. My mom died last Tuesday the fifteenth. My mother was in retirement getting ready to travel the world with my father and my sister was at the peak of her twenties. She had a lifetime ahead of her." She sniffed.

He looked at her questionably. She continued sadly. "My mother died almost three years ago from liver disease but it turns out that she drank herself to death. She always had a soft spot for vodka." She exhaled loudly. "My mother's job was a hassle. She was the head of cardiology at Bethesda for five years and had been a cardiologist for twenty years previously. I think as the years of working there dragged on she got very depressed and began to drink. Normally, my father and mother had red wine each night with dinner but she began to drink more and more. I think her liver just gave out after so much abuse." A single tear dripped down her cheek and Tony almost instantly wanted to wrap the young woman in a comforting hug and slip his number into her pants' pocket if she needed consoling in the future.

"Thank you very much Ms McNamara for your time. I'm very sorry for your loss. If you have any other information or tips that could be helpful in the investigation please give me a call. We want to solve this case as quick as possible. Please stay in the general area in case we need to contact you again." He said, standing up and closing the small notebook.

She nodded pleased, wiping away the fake tear that she had cried. She smiled softly. She was so good; it was unbelievable how amazing of an actress she really was. As soon as she turned on the waterworks she saw the agent's eyes soften.

She had seen understanding and recognition in his eyes only moments before. He had been through it also.

"Was your mother an alcoholic?" her gentle question seemed to jolt him. He spun around looking confused. "What did she like?" she asked as they both walked down the hall.

He looked as if about to say no, but knowing that she could read his face and would know about his lie he replied, "Gin and tonic. Martini if it was a special occasion. She was fond of both."

She nodded. They had been through the same thing and understood the suffering that they had gone through.

"She died of liver cancer… poor way to die if you ask me." He muttered, having honestly no clue why he was sharing something so personal with a woman who he had just met and who he thought had lied through half the investigation. He never was this open.

"I know. They both died because of their own poor choices." She said. "Did you have to suffer through the hangovers and the mood swings?" He nodded.

"Of course. Isn't ignorance wonderful? My mother hit me sometimes. She would never dare touch my sister and my father was stuck in his oblivious mind. He almost never left his lab unless it was to see my sister. When he did come home he ignored it because she never touched him. I don't think my parents liked me too much. I think I was the ugly stepsister to them." She sighed bitterly. "Too bad I never got a prince."

Tony was silent. It wouldn't help to offer commiserations or even let her cry on his shoulder while she reminisced her past. He squeezed her shoulder gently suddenly unsure about his feelings for her. He escorted her to the elevator closest to the teams' desks.

Gibbs, McGee and Ziva looked up from where they were talking about the possibilities about the suspects. Gibbs couldn't help but notice that Tony's relaxed smile seemed a bit more forced than usual.

"What's the matter Tony, breasts not perky enough?" Ziva teased, picking up the pencil that they lay next to her empty legal pad.

He walked back to the group once the young woman was safely in the elevator and away from eagerly listening ears. His brow was furrowed and he looked puzzled.

He sighed and bit his lip. "No, I don't trust liars. She's hiding something big, very big."

McGee looked up from his computer to Tony, putting his pencil behind his ear. "Why do you think that?"

"She was very sincere but every once in a while she would throw in a harsh comment about her sister. I think she lied through at least half of the interview. Take a look at the tape when you get the chance. I have the feeling that this isn't a simple case of sibling rivalry." He said, sipping at Ziva's coffee that was accidentally placed on his desk. "You know what who am I kidding? I'm not the one that learned all of those tricks from the Mossad."

It seemed that laughing off his gut feelings wasn't as easy as he thought. Ziva and McGee shrugged and rolled their eyes but Gibbs was harder to shake off. He examined Tony's movements and looks toward the elevator with concern. It wasn't often that Tony voiced his gut feelings despite the fact they were normally right, it was more of keeping up his personal image that mattered to him. He would joke and make fun of the ideas put out by others but they were never true feelings.

It made Gibbs really wonder what had caused him to be so insecure about his opinions. What had his parents done to make him feel so doubtful?

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Yay! I hope I didn't make Tony to be so cynical, I didn't mean to. Please remember to review and give me your input, it'll make me that much more better of a writer. I'm starting from scratch with all of the reviews because I'm a moron and accidentally deleted this story. So, if you may please review again!

Luvs, Ari


	5. Nothing Lasts Forever

Title: I Can't Be Perfect

A/N: I got carried away. I accidentally added more Tiva than I planned. It's really more teasing/flirting but Tiva nonetheless.

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Chapter 5- Nothing last Forever

_1989-Centre Island, Nassau County Long Island_

_He hated funerals. It wasn't like he was acting immature or he was just be whiny. He just really hated funerals. The lonely feeling that surrounded him as a child living in the Hamptons in a supremely big house, or mansion, seemed to mock him when the throng of people flooded into the house._

_Half of them weren't even his relatives; they were associates of his father's shipping business, customers of his mother's recently sold interior design company or just the high and mighty acquaintances that his parents met at some black and white formal that he wasn't allowed to go to. It didn't matter who they were, Tony called them snobs. _

_Even at the tender age of fifteen, Anthony D. DiNozzo knew that the people who spent most of their lives sitting around eating caviar and talking about the less fortunate weren't the type of people he wanted to associate the word 'friend' with. _

_He enjoyed having money but the way that people treated others was disgusting. At his elite boarding school, just the way that the richest treated the poorest, was just enough to make you want to puke. _

_And at his mother's wake on the twenty-fourth of May, Anthony DiNozzo felt just like that. Maybe it was the added perfume of the many flowers crowding the small room that made him feel nauseous but he couldn't wait until it was over. _

_The bouquets were extravagant looking. Some were huge taking up at least a quarter of the full eight feet wide hall and probably just as much upward. They were full of every type of flower imaginable, roses, lilies, and tulips. Basically it was a competition to see who could get the biggest bouquet._

_It seemed that the entire affair was just as bad. The wake was done at the home to invite people to see the extensive artwork and architecture of the house, while paying their respects to her, to Tony's dearly departed mother who died in the most tragic of accidents._

_Honestly, it wasn't that tragic. It was actually her fault that she died. She had consumed a little too much gin and tonic and had then gotten behind the wheel of her car. She had sped along the quiet and peaceful neighborhood at speeds of over 60mph. She had struck a car with a family man behind the wheel. He had had four children and died at the scene. Mariana DiNozzo had had a chance at living a longer life but she hadn't died from her injuries in the accident. She had died because of her alcoholism. Her liver had failed and no donor could be found at the same time that she was recovering from her broken femur and cervical bone. _

_His mother hadn't done much with her life. She had sold her failing business and taken to spending many days hidden in her bedroom or sun basking days in Salerno, Italy. She had done nothing and was given a second chance._

_The eulogy that his grieving father gave painted a much better, more compassionate version of the woman who he called his wife. He glamorized her sad, pitiful lifestyle with hopes and dreams that were never what she wanted. He forgot about her depression and growing dependency on alcohol and with tears in his eyes he explained how much he would miss his wife and that his son would be the only reminder of her. Almost instantaneously the entire group of 450+ people turned to stare at the poor little fourteen year old. _

_There focus only lasted for less than a minute as his father coughed trying to divert their attention and sympathy from his son. It worked and he was led off the podium by his eldest brother and handed a glass of vodka._

_The selfishness of his father was so disconcerting that Tony left. He left the room, the house, the yard. He just wanted to get away, to just forget that his mother had died and now it was just him and his father. _

_He couldn't stand his father's methods for getting attention. Wanted or unwanted. He'd dealt with it for his entire childhood but it seemed just a bit too much on the day of the wake. He knew that his father was going to try to build up attention on himself but he got so carried away… or something. _

_He ended up in a cove just south of Montecito Drive. It was a sleeping little road, but extended far onto the coastline and into the shores of the Sound._

_There was an alcove not far from the road though; it had peaceful quiet sensations that drifted in from the surroundings. The lapping waves reminded him of the Pacific in Hawaii but the rocky pebbly shore begged to differ. _

_Once settled down against a rock and toward the sunset he lets his mind wander back to the funeral. He hadn't wanted to go at all. It wasn't that it didn't mater to him that it was his mother who had died but just the activities. It was a painful experience but even more so because Tony had a crowd to please._

_It was irritating being the son of Anton DiNozzo. People expected so much of him and most of the time he could barely give them half. His father was the worst to please. He tried to do all he wanted but it was never enough. _

_He watched the sunset peacefully, the yellowish green sky predictably turning a dark navy blue shade. At least something could be dependent on... the sun always set and the stars always rose at night despite the horrors in the world. _

_It was comforting to note that regardless of what would happen later on that he had a place of solace when things with his father got bad. Oh yes, it was very comforting._

"Dollar for your thoughts." Ziva soft accent infiltrated the barriers of his memories and the real world easily. A thin sneaky snake that could break through all barriers put up to protect his memories.

"Penny, Ziva. Penny" he said rolling his eyes. He picked his head up from the cool glass pane near the bullpen where he was taking a quick break and turned around. It had been a long day with barely any information gained. Abby wasn't finished with the evidence and Ducky was still occupied. The neighbors around the property were too far away to have any useful information other than a shiny white Jetta leaving the scene a week earlier about the time of the supposed murder.

The case was turning cold fast. Unless they got a major break they were going to have to put the case in a box and call it a day.

"It sounds better with dollar. And besides with all the crap in there, there has to be something worth a dollar. " She snapped. Then, while brushing away a stray piece of hair, she said, "Anyway, what's the matter? I've never seen you this quiet."

He sighed. "I'm not being quiet Ziva, I'm being pensive."

She shot a mock disbelieved glance at him. "Anthony DiNozzo, you're just filled with surprises today aren't you. You don't go after the black haired, perky breasted girl with long legs and now you're actually thinking about something other than sex?"

"I know shocker isn't?" he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm and bitterness. He hated being labeled as a non-thinker but that was how most people thought of him.

"Okay to cut the chase, what's really the matter?" she asked, touching him softly on the hand. Her soft velvety skin brushed against an old police scar and he twitched softly, awed by the way just a simple brush could stem a flow of feelings for a woman who he never thought about in that way.

"Honestly Ziva, it's nothing. The girl just brought back some unpleasant memories." He said. They walked back to the bullpen together, wary not to touch or brush up against each other.

"Anything you can talk to me about?" she asked sitting down. He shook his head, an amused smiling gracefully playing on his lips.

"Well, I would but you're suddenly caring and sharing mode is killing me slowly. So Ms. David, please let's talk about something not so serious."

"Uh huh. Like what? That you act like an ass every time something serious comes up. That you hide behind that ridiculously good mask of yours."

She wasn't going to back down. Going against an angry and fed up Ziva David wasn't the smartest thing. If he played his cards right, Gibbs would walk in at the perfect time. He could get their assignments and hopefully he didn't have to spend the entire day having a heart to heart with Ziva.

"Yes, I've had great practice." He scoffed. "So Ziva do you like man tall, dark and handsome or shorter, light and McGeeky?" he gestured to McGee who looked very…attractive after spending most of the day running and hacking into several national companies for employee lists. His hair was mussed up and clenched between his teeth was a yellow pencil. He tapped furiously away at his computer and didn't even blink when Tony mentioned his name.

She opened her mouth to reply and he was answered with a swift slap to the back of the head. Wincing he spun around to see Gibbs nonchalant expression. Gibbs' precise entrances always amazed him. He always walked in when he got deep into the sexual tension and witty banter between himself and Ziva.

Thank the lord for some consistencies in the world.

He glared at Gibbs but he disregarded his face. Instead he walked quickly to look behind McGee's computer and snapped his fingers in front of him.

He blinked wildly and jumped. With a startled gasp McGee said "Huh?"

"Take a break, and let Abby run through the numbers. You're going with Ziva to question the three friends with them on the night she disappeared." McGee almost protested but thought better of it and stood up cracking his back.

"Hey, what about me? I can go question them too" Tony asked stunned that Gibbs would head slap him and than ignore his astounding abilities to go and question three sobbing friends, who probably needed some cuddling. It sounded even more appealing when he though about it.

Gibbs did a once over looking at him. McGee and Ziva turned and waited for Gibbs to either ignore him or mention that he had something else to attend to.

"You worked the double shift before this case began. You haven't slept in almost two days yet you still look better than McGee." Ziva snorted but quickly shoved her fist into her mouth to stop a laugh." I don't need you falling on your face or collapsing in front of the last people that saw her alive. I think that that makes a bad impression on something."

Tony rolled his eyes at Gibbs offhanded idea of compassion and the idea of spending a couple of sleepless hours at home.

"I guess. Probie might want to comb his hair then. He looks like a zombie from the walking dead." McGee flustered for a minute trying to flatten a piece sticking out of the top making him look like a cockatoo.

"Good, go home, sleep and come back by six tomorrow." Gibbs said making to follow McGee and Ziva into the elevator. "Or since, you, me and the wall all know that you won't sleep anyway, make yourself useful and read through Arianna's diary." He gestured toward the evidence bags that were sitting peacefully next to Ziva's desk.

He paused. "I looked at the video feed from the questioning. You were right she does have something to hide." He smiled slightly. Only the corners of his mouth lifted up in a half-smile that wasn't very often seen. "Nice catch, DiNozzo."


	6. Did I Grow Up According to Plan?

Disclaimer: …summer lovin' in different sense… 

**Well, it depends on how you look at it…a little bit more graphic and more dialogue between Tony and his papa. Lovely right? Plus more info about crazy Aurora and Tony's familiarity with the situation. **

**Some nasty words, generous references to alcohol abuse, signs of abuse and all of that fun stuff. **

**Chapter 6- Did I Grow Up According to Plan?**

* * *

Gibbs and Tony seemed to have a mental connection. They both knew about Tony's habit to barely be able to resist staying to review a file or jot down ideas or theories. It wasn't his place to argue with "the man" about staying, but he couldn't help himself. His detective instincts went into overdrive and it was hard to control his logic or theories. 

They both knew without a doubt that when Tony went home he would sleep off some of the caffeine high he was currently flying on and then he would come back to the office. He wouldn't go into the field yet, that had to wait until his thoughts were more coherent and understandable and he wasn't so serious that it would surely turn some heads.

The agents that stayed late into the night all held silent agreements that they wouldn't mention anything to their supervisors, especially if they had direct orders to go home. They wouldn't talk to each other. Staying at NCIS all night wasn't for a social visit; it was to drive yourself into the ground to search for a terrorist or a child killer.

It was saddening to note the large bagged eyes suddenly look wide awake in the morning from the everlasting affects of the cover up. Or the coffee chugging fellows that practically fell down from exhaustion the next day.

Tony, however, was a light sleeper and had a large energy supply. He would sleep some hours then return to the bullpen. He would stay up until late at night developing his imagination into developed theories. Sometimes it worked other times he was running blind into a pit.

Tony sat at his desk later that night. It was close to twelve thirty but some sections of NCIS were still alive with people, lights and machines. It seemed a good time as ever to start working on his ideas.

He had tried to sleep when he was sent home early. He hated going home early. It made him feel like he was back in grade school and had gotten in trouble. He would have to go home early feeling disappointed and ashamed.

At NCIS, it was different but still similar. It wasn't his fault that Special Agent Rivera needed another perspective on the case they were working on. He just happened to be finished with his report and instead of working on something like an old cold case he helped the team. It was actually his input that saved the case from growing cold.

He still hated going home early. Despite being awake almost thirty-six hours straight, with minimum breaks in between, he could never fall asleep with the sun outside and brightly lit. He could never even as a child.

So, after sleeping for about five hours with his blinds all firmly shut he returned to NCIS, barely catching the surprised looks from Ziva or McGee.

It was an odd case. There were no rock solid suspects and the tools used to murder the victim were coming up empty. There were prints but the person wasn't in the system. Some cotton fibers were the same. They were from a black ski ensemble but the area where she was found was chilly in November and a prominent wintry escape. Brushing against a person could have caused the fibers to appear. They were running into dead ends like there was no tomorrow. It was very frustrating and tensing because the victim was one of their own.

The diary they found at the home was their only hope. It was their only chance of finally finding a way out of the mess that they affectionately called a cold case.

He opened up the first page expecting a book full of teenage drama. The crushes, the punishments and the whole lists of problems of what happened to teens at seventeen.

The first five entries were what he expected. Aurora was upset that her parents wouldn't let her go to a friend's party because her grades weren't up to their standards. And her exact words were "I'm only at an 'A' but my parents think I'm slacking off." It hit a little too close to home for Tony. His father used to feel that same way and quite frankly his father grew to be one more person that Tony could not stand. Combined with his father's stress from his position as president of DiNozzo Enterprises and his incessant need of having his son fill his shoes Tony DiNozzo was really starting to resent his father. 

_1990-Centre Island, Nassau County Long Island_

_The soft squeal of a loose floorboard was not loud enough to be audible to ears that weren't carefully listening. It was a hushed quiet. The soft delicate squeal dragged out and carried by the gentle breeze._

_It was late at night when a small boy silently entered the house by the kitchen's backdoor. The boy with his bright green jaded eyes softly padded through the kitchen. _

_Humid July air rushed behind the carefully evasive and planned procedure and into the drafty kitchen. Soft carefully planned steps followed in the wake of the teenager. He stepped carefully, gingerly trying to avoid the loudest step. Maybe it was the euphoric feeling that he got from sneaking out of the house that ruined his plan but he accidentally stepped on the worst possible wood board._

_To his relief no sound echoed or resulted from his light misstep. He smirked and placed his keys on his normal hook. _

_He was hesitant. It was too quiet. Way to quiet. He almost expected half a dozen ninjas to jump out from inside the large refrigerator or the double sink. An experience some action weary actor in Hollywood had mostly fallen into._

_He hadn't had the chance to sneak across the room. The lights suddenly flashed on and the room was flooded with lights from a lamp that stood at the far wall of the room. It was __much too bright for his eyes being used to the darkness outside. He winced and immediately closed his eyes as a security measure._

"_Your college choices are going to be cut in half if your marks are slipping like they are now."_

_Of course. Just his flipping fucking luck. His father was probably the worst person to get caught with. The maids were easy, promise never to do it again then slip them some of the really good chocolate and they would never tell. His father held no such luck. _

"_I went out with my friends, it's not like I skipped school," he snapped. He was getting sick of his fathers continuous reminders to prepare for college and SATs. He just wanted to be a normal kid. Play sports, hang out with his friends and then worry about college. _

"_Where have you been?" his father asked taking a gulp from his glass that held his liquor in it. An empty bottle of vodka and another bottle of Raspberry Smirnoff were lying randomly on the floor. _

_Shit. He had been drinking all evening. That was never a good thing. He would be temperamental and over analyze everything he said._

"_I was out with my friends," Tony huffed leaning against the granite countertop annoyed. He didn't care what his father had to say, he just wanted to go to bed and forget about his father and his stupid reminders._

"_What about your schoolwork. You need all the help you can to improve that math grade." Tony almost groaned out loud. He had a 96.4 in Pre-Calculus and his father wanted him to improve his grade. His father was asking for a miracle. Unless he was a genius, he wouldn't get higher than that. He didn't even want to do anything in math. _

"_Well, I did it. I was with Mike practicing for the basketball tournament." He said. "Or did you forget that you were the one that signed me up for all of the sports."_

_His father sighed and Tony almost felt bad for mouthing off. "What happened to the shy, obedient son I had?" Tony smirked before he answered._

"_Puberty."_

_His father growled and poured more of the tinted pink liquor into his glass. "Always with the wisecrack answers." He shook his head in disappointment._

_Tony was miffed. "Are you disappointed? Don't pull that crap with me because I don't care."_

"_Yes, I'm disappointed. You were so smart, so talented but now you don't care. You could be a partner in the firm if you try to keep your grades up."_

"_My grades are up. Considering how stupid my grade is, you should be proud that I am smart." Tony laughed bitterly. "Of course, you can't be proud of me that would take some effort. You couldn't be the fucking drill sergeant you really are. You'd have to show emotion."_

_Tony had to give his father some credit. He didn't react the way he thought he would, pie eyed. Tony had gone a little overboard, he hadn't meant to blurt everything out at once. Those were his really personal feelings that were supposed to stay inside._

"_Maybe I should give you a little advice. Heavens know that I have very little patience left before I belt you." _

"_Yea, like you ever give advice." Tony muttered. "There's always a price."_

"_I have treated you with the utmost care I could give a son. And this is how you repay me? I've fed you, kept you off the streets, given you enough money to buy who knows what and this is how you treat me?" his father growled. "You ignorant little brat!"_

_It was never a good thing to irritate his father when he was drunk, there were seldom times that he would forcefully go up against his father but Tony was fed up._

_He was sick of being treated like he was nothing. He was never proud even if he did meet up to his standards. He was supposed to meet his standards it wasn't an option not to. _

"_I don't want to go to Harvard. I don't want to be the lawyer or partner or whatever the fuck I'm supposed to be. I don't want to be anything you want me to be." Then as an afterthought, he added, "I want to be me." His father took a sip to control his rage. _

_Tony took a second to breathe. Shadows were forming under the closed door to the hallway. That meant that the help his father hired were listening and waiting for the time to come to clean up whatever needed to be cleaned from his father's drunken wrath._

"_What do you want to do with yourself then?" his father sneered, as he unsteadily wavered on his feet, glaring at his only son. "Join the army? Become a musician?" he scoffed. "I don't think I could see you standing in the subway with a violin playing for food."_

_Tony gazed at his father with utter disbelief. "Actually I want to be a ballet dancer." He deadpanned. He waited for his father to sense the oblivious sarcasm, the mockery. _

_He smiled sweetly at his father, who was growing in anger and impatience. With a sudden feral growl his father grabbed him by the hair and lifted him up in the air so he was at least two feet above ground. He bit his lip to keep in an outraged shout. His body was still small. He wasn't tall or bulky, he hadn't had a growth spurt yet and he couldn't fight off his father. _

_His father had lifted and pinned him to the wall like he was fixture or a painting on the wall. Frankly he was just amazed at what a little too much drink could do._

"_You little, disrespectful cretin. You don't deserve all of the good fortune I'm giving you." His father's eyes were wild and for the first time, Tony was afraid. _

_He didn't back down. He always had the really bad habit of not knowing when to stop. His wisecracks were never ending and his witty remarks drove his father crazy._

"_I'm a cretin? I think that term has some loose ends considering that there's a bastard hanging me on a wall like I'm a frickin' painting." He snarled wiggling, trying to get loose._

_His father growled lightly and picked him back off the wall and tossed him against the window leading to the deck with hidden strength from the vodka and his own adrenaline. Tony crashed against the glass window with a sickening creak and crack as the window split like a spider's web. He gasped lightly as the window gave way and Tony fell to the ground._

_With the mess of glass and noise he made, his father snapped out of his daze seeing what he had done. _

_Tony was slowly going unconscious. His eyes were drooping and his hand was the pathway for a long stream of blood from several cuts on his back and one awfully brutal glass piece embedded in his head._

_He closed his eyes and heard only remnants of conversations. The loud and panicked cry to the maid Rosa to get Dr. Kleinhardt and the quick chatter that lasted several hours after the accident. _

Tony shook himself out of the nightmare that was too real to be normal. He never should have told the girl about his parents. She caused so many bad memories it was unbelievable.

He closed the diary that lay in front of him. He had barely glanced at it, made a scratch into the secrets that were packed into the tiny purple book. He would try to make a dent tomorrow after he tried to sleep off his memories without causing his team to see behind his evasive mask and into the complex person that was Tony DiNozzo.

He wasn't ready to show them that yet.

* * *

Ducky was troubled. It was always a miserable experience to autopsy an agent. It was especially difficult to autopsy someone like Lily McNamara. 

She was such a sweet girl. She was beautiful with her curly blonde locks and delicate cheek bones. She listened to all of Ducky's stories and even asked questions. A quirk that turned her into the one person that retrieved the autopsy report from him.

She always looked dainty but she packed a powerful punch. Sweet and innocent features but her lovely sunny optimistic deposition turned the moment something turned unjust or wrong.

She was a spitfire. She might not have the muscle but she had a mouth and a quick wit to go along with it. She had a strong sense of right and wrong and tried to her fullest ability to help anyone she could.

She was the manipulator on Agent West's team. She was normally in the interrogation room chatting happily with the suspect; normally the one person they alleged was the sole killer. She was never with any other suspect.

One moment she could be chatting about the weather or a sports game and before you knew it she changed. Turning into the fiery beast, she was brought to the agency for. She would twist their sick logic; manipulate them into telling the truth. She would explain every gory detail, every small pin point of knowledge that she knew from the evidence or just plain assumptions they had made. Sometimes she created fake evidence to send chills down the suspect's shoulders. Most of them snapped the second she began.

She had skill, amazing attention to detail and logic that would have one day made her a very important agent. Except that she could never be it now.

"You are very beautiful on the outside, my dear, but on the inside we all look the same." He said, switching on the light above the table and taking the water hose off of the hook. "Those fellows looking for beauty enhancers and other dreadful chemicals to put in their body must have been envious of your natural beauty." He smiled softly. "You, my dear, never needed a single chemical I believe."

_Even like this, you are still a stunning woman. _He added as an afterthought. He looked at her mangled body still hidden under the sheet. He was performing the autopsy alone. Palmer no matter how sharp the lad was not ready for this autopsy.

The rushing water from the overhead hose mingled with the blood caked on her body. Even with her legs and arms in odd angles she looked graceful, dainty and small on the steel table. He gently and tenderly wiped away the blood crusted around a previous wound that she had gotten. It had been a minor stab wound on her arm, nothing big but it needed some stitches and Agent West had sent her down to Ducky.

She had almost cried. Not from the pain but because she had disappointed herself. She had been careless, reckless even. She hadn't noticed the silver tip of the pocket knife the suspect carried and without even paying attention the suspect had apprehended her and taken a good chunk of muscle out of her arm. It had missed all major veins and arteries but it was a reminder of having to prove herself worthy of being on the team and part of the agency.

There were many people that she had to prove herself to. Sad as it seemed she would have made a wonderful agent. She was still green, young and wide eyed, not experienced enough to know and understand all of the horrible things in the world.

Maybe this event, this killing, would be enough for people to really try hard to help one another. Lily McNamara had tried and failed. She worked hard to prove herself to people when there were so many other things she could have been doing. Didn't she know that what other people think wasn't important? It seemed not for her to be so upset that day. As long as she was herself, doing what she wanted, and working hard to make herself proud she could have all the happiness she wanted.

It was almost a disagreeable comment considering her fate and her destiny to be lying in a cold decaying grave. Lily could have been anything she wanted and done anything. It seemed that fate had fixed her life and her death to an ending that didn't seem to fit.

* * *

I actually wasn't thinking of making Ducky do anything in this story so 'Meg' I hope this is suitable for you! I wasn't sure how to describe his perspective so I just kind of went off onto how my grandpa acts(he's just like him). The words flowed so, I'm praying it at least sounds wise and worthy of Ducky's standards. 

Thanks everyone else for your fantastic support! I would love to thank everyone personally but for some reason my account on won't let me so you'll have to settle for just my simple thank you! Thanks to Sharkysheep for her awesome betaing skills and her tolerance with my grammatical errors!

Luvs, Ari


	7. Waste My Time

**I Can't Be Perfect...**

**Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing the characters, hopefully if I keep them long enough they'll like me better!**

**Chapter 7-Wasting My Time**

As they believed the teasing and supposed sexual tension was nonexistent. The entire team was questioned inside and out and never once considered Special Agent Martin Tyler capable of murdering Lily. He was a flirt maybe a little protective of her; they all were, but not a flirt in the sense of murderous jealousy.

It was bull. If the team considered Martin a murderer then Tony should have been shipped off to jail awhile ago. He probably had enough threats of sexual assault to be put away for years.

He did however mention an old boyfriend, Dylan King, who Martin thought was a little too forceful with her. They had checked out Mr. King and discovered that he had plenty of reasons for the increased forcefulness and none of them for supposed thoughts of abuse.

"It turns out that Lily McNamara received a series of threatening letters." McGee read off his sheet. The entire team had come together once again in the elevator to talk about the case. It was the only silent place they had. With all Lily's friends at the agency continuously questioning their abilities to solve the case and the Director's watchful eye, following their every movement they needed one place to focus and throw out theories or ideas without everyone listening in.

"What did they say?" Gibbs asked, sipping his coffee.

"All three basically said the same thing with just different wording. First said, _'Terrible days are heading your way. Better bring an umbrella. Maybe a knife too.'_" McGee stopped reading. "The others said something about fire but I'll save you the confusion. I know; it's very vague and really...random. I'm not sure where to go from it."

"How are they signed?" Ziva questioned as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. She had an excessive amount of energy this morning. The six hours of sleep she had gotten were all she needed to stay hyper and active throughout the day.

McGee didn't even need to lift the papers to know who signed the notes he remembered it because it was so odd.

"Borealis" Ziva looked as if to ask him to repeat it but she stopped when another, seemingly quiet person so far spoke.

"Aurora...Borealis. Practically a free lightshow in Alaska, Northern Canada and Europe." Tony said. "It's the solar emissions from the sun that react with the atmosphere at the Poles."

The three turned to Tony who was absorbed in the journal. His brow was furrowed in a hard gaze, and his eyes seemed to spin as he read through the pages. He lifted a hand and rubbed his temples gingerly not bothering to stop reading to end the coming headache or engage in conversation with the other three.

" I think that it's obvious. Aurora Borealis…Aurora McNamara. Anyone else see the connection?" he mumbled still not glancing upward. He finished the last journal entry and closed up the book. "What? It's beautiful. Amazing display of every color imaginable."

Ziva shook her head at Tony's odd behavior. Tony always had a way of paying attention even when nobody thought he was or when it was clear he was absorbed in something totally different.

"You're just full of surprises aren't you?" McGee asked. Tony shot him a dirty look.

"What? I'm not allowed to know anything?" he asked. Tony lifted his eyebrows challenging McGee to answer the question without insulting himself or bruising either of their egos.

"I never said that," McGee shot back. Before anymore could be said and before body parts were severely damaged, Gibbs asked.

"Yes, we see the connection. What did the journal say?"

Tony shook his head and looked up. "Well it's safe to say that Aurora has serious issues. This girl was seriously messed up. She was definitely depressed and suicidal…maybe even homicidal. She doesn't get really weird until about the sixth entry when she finally finalizes her abuse. Her mother was hitting her but never touched her 'perfect' daughter." He said his even tone wavering.

Tony looked back into the journal for reference. "She wrote that she fought with her mother about everything. She wanted to be an artist but that wasn't considered a career choice, screaming and yelling resulted. Then hitting."

"Sounds like she had a great childhood." McGee muttered suddenly grateful for his quirky but loving family.

"Oh it was." Tony said speaking about personal experiences as well as Aurora's. "The journal was very detailed. She was very meticulous about her planned suicide attempt down to the exact place she was going to cut her arms."

"Arms? Don't you mean wrists?"

Tony shook his head. "Nope arms. Wrists are for amateurs. We have some very plump veins running through our arms." With an imaginary knife he gestured slicing the skin an inch below his elbow.

"Who caught her?" Gibbs asked.

"Lily. I think she might have been sneaking looks at her diary because after the entry about uh…her attempt, the following ones became a lot less detailed but generally they remained thorough. I guess habitually she couldn't stop being thorough."

"Did it say anything about Lily?" Ziva asked.

"A lot. Aurora was overly resentful about her sister almost to the point of complete obsession." Tony opened the diary to the middle page, flicking a page either way. "Let see, in May that year she really started writing all about her sister, negatively. She says,

'_Lily this, Lily that. That's all I hear around this dump. Lily's always been the star of everyone's attention. Whose report cards hang on the fridge? Lily's. Whose name appears at least twice in every conversation? Not mine, Lily's. Perfect, exceptionally smart Lily McNamara. She's sweet and perfect and not to mention brilliant! God I wish that she could just make a mistake, do something not perfect. Maybe that will show my drunken mother that she's not the only talented one. My artwork made it into the State Fair and I might get a full ride into Felton Art. But to them, art isn't as important as criminology.Why do I even try?' _

That's the basic premise of her rants about Lily. It's all tit for tat type of things. She stopped writing in this diary for about two weeks than regained her usual pace at once a day. She complained that some witch is condemning her to writing in another diary."

"Psychologist?" Ziva asked.

"Most likely."

"You said homicidal before, why?" McGee asked. "Does she really have the capability to kill her? You saw her yourself Tony, she's a tiny little thing barely reaching 120 pounds, and she doesn't have the muscle to take down a trained federal agent."

"I don't know. An adrenaline can do some amazing things. You know about those women that lifted up their SUVs to save their trapped children. Maybe Aurora acted like that at that moment in some warped sense to save her sanity." Tony sighed. "I really don't know." The four left the elevator for their desks. It was late and hopefully no one would bother them.

"She did say. In full detail her plan for her sister's death. I'm guessing she must have found a nice place to hide this book or she would be holed up in an asylum with a straight jacket."

"It must have been really bad." Ziva murmured seating herself at the edge of her desk as both McGee and Gibbs stood around her and Tony.

"Well, unless you consider explaining how she would cry out and whine and plead for a normal life for herself, then yes was bad. She went into complicated study of which was the best way to die and what artery carried the greatest supply of blood. It was really graphic and carefully planned." He grimaced. "She read several psychology books and case studies about victims of sexual abuse and torture. More importantly, the effects of the case."

"Why did she do that? Why did she break the pattern if she went into such painstaking steps to make her suffer? Why bother with just a broken kneecap and bumps and bruises?" McGee asked.

"Guilt? Maybe she couldn't stand her sister but isn't as cruel as to make her suffer." Ziva said.

"It's a possibility but we need concrete proof if we want to convict her. Plus we need to find that James she talked about. I have a feeling that he has a part."

* * *

Maybe it was by luck or ill fated on his part but James O'Connor was an easy person to find. 

And not very subtle. From just the video feed at the little shop across from the club, the team got a clear picture of what James looked like. It was a little grimy but through a facial recognition program and a few hours questioning officials at art galleries all over DC they found James O'Connor.

James O'Connor was an odd guy. He came from riches and showed it smugly. Decked out in Abercrombie and too big confined in the small interrogation made him look small and childish. Funnily enough, he had his reddish hair gelled and sticking up making him look sixteen instead of twenty-eight.

He alternated between tapping his fingers against the table and banging his feet in rhythm to a phantom melody. Either he had severe ADD or he was nervous about something. Tony guessed the latter.

James O'Connor was a cocky fellow. He acted pompous and obnoxious throwing their rumpled appearances to being underpaid and too hardworking. It was save to say that he had never tried working really hard before or suffered for his art.

He was stupid though. He never once asked for an attorney, even though his high end father probably had dozens lined up to take his case, and was easy to pick through for the truth.

Gibbs loved cocky bastards. Not for there impressive skill of only talking about themselves but for the pride they took in the killing. James O'Connor was no different. Gibbs could almost feel the pride rolling off the young man like sweat from a fevered man. He grinned broadly, showing all of his perfectly orthodontist adjusted teeth.

It was almost too easy. A little pat on the back and he would be spilling.

Gibbs slapped the folder on the table with a little extra force than necessary. He flopped down on the chair across from James with almost an admirable smile on his face.

"You impress me, James." The other man smiled appreciatively.

"I'm glad. Now, please tell me why I'm owed this visit by you, Mr.…"

"Gibbs. Special Agent Gibbs." He answered curtly. "You're being questioned about your involvement in the murder of Lily McNamara."

The smile never faltered and made Gibbs want to reach across the table and wipe it off his face.

"I never murdered anyone, Special Agent." James O'Connor folded his arms behind his head in a relaxed gesture but his quick finger tapping became more than just a vague annoyance for Gibbs.

"I never said that. I don't personally think that you murdered her but I think that you helped."

James debated that one. He didn't want to place himself in a bad spot but wanted to claim his part of her abduction and death.

Gibbs continued, "You seduced her. She had been drinking. The events of the day plus her long time boyfriend dumping her were taking its toll and to her a good round of tequila shots did wonders." His voice spilled off is tongue, slow and soothing. "You figured that since your girl, Aurora, told you to help her with her sister, you'd have fun while you did it."

"She was beautiful." He did it by accident he hadn't meant to talk but he couldn't escape the urge to interrupt. "Not at all like Rori, I mean she's pretty, but well you know, Lily was a knock out. I'm actually a little sad that we wasted her. I thought she looked hot and I took my chances. We danced for awhile, and I bought her a drink. That's when I did it."

Gibbs was almost afraid to reenter the confession, to give James the opening to jut out of the conversation and not speak again.

"Did what?" he murmured softly.

"I drugged her. Nice and easy. GHB and a little rohypnol. For being a government agency, you don't train your agents very well. Se didn't even take a second look at what was in it. Just knocked it down." James O'Connor was so caught up in insulting the agency; he didn't notice the officer that was coming up from behind his chair and the satisfied smirk on Gibbs face.

Gibbs put a hand up to stop the officer. "What else did you do?"

"If your asking if I killed her, then no. I played with her a little but no I didn't kill her."

"Don't be modest, you were the one that shot her," Gibbs said. James O'Connor shook his head vehemently.

"No, I didn't." He sounded almost apologetic. "I just skipped my knife down her arm, and did some batting practice. She was fully conscious when I went back upstairs." He grinned smugly. "Now, if we're finished I'd like to leave.

Gibbs nodded. "Well, Mr. O'Connor, you can leave just not in the conventional way. You're being charged with kidnapping and accessory to murder. I'm not sorry to put a damper to your day." The officer proceeded to charge him and Gibbs left the room.

"Do you believe him?" McGee asked. The three other agents on his team caught up to Gibbs as he stopped the elevator.

"Yes, he's too simple minded to come up with such an elaborate plan to kill her. There has to be a leader, and I'm putting my money on the sister." Gibbs answered.

Aurora McNamara was much smarter than James O'Connor. She was thrifty and the mastermind of the murder of Lily McNamara. Conventional methods of interrogation weren't going to work. They had to be creative.

* * *

Anyone want to take a guess at what the notes McGee read mean? _'Terrible days are heading your way. Better bring an umbrella. Maybe a knife too.'_ I thought this is pretty blatant but maybe that's just because I know where this story is going. 

Okay…here's the deal. I have extremely low self esteem issues and because I'm not getting a lot of reviews it's causing me to panic into thinking that I'm making a fool of myself when I try to write this. I hope you readers understand this and will take three seconds to write a review. Please enjoy! I know people are reading this because I have a mailbox full of story alerts but I crave reviews. Who knew reviews were so addicting?

Luvs, Ari


	8. Now it's Just too Late

**I Can't Be Perfect……Tigerlily1221**

**Thanks to everyone that reviewed!! I love seeing an inbox full of mail, it made my day knowing somebody out there liked my story! Remember to do it until its over!!**

**Okay here's the thing, I threw out my other chapter 8 even though it was much better written, because well I couldn't live with how boring it was. I hope you guys reward me and my destroyed comfort zone with lots of REVIEWS! **

**Chapter 8-****Now it's Just too Late**

The brush dipped into the small cup of paint, crushing the lumps of paint into blue sludge. She put a generous amount onto a cardboard artist pallet that was already half covered in a mixture of teal and a reddish brown.

She needed a beautiful painting to hang over her bed. The Monet that was currently hanging was boring, the colors were too light; she needed something rich in color to contrast sharply with her oak furniture. She slashed some newly created midnight blue across the beige canvas. It was going to be a night scene. More specifically the night she stole her sister's life.

It had been November eighteenth. She had been planning to do it on a day with a number she liked. Four was half of eight but it was considered bad luck in China; that wouldn't do. She settled for either the eighth or the eighteenth. She had no reason to kill her on the eighth. She had had a horribly bad day so it was probably an omen that killing her sister wouldn't end well. So the eighteenth was the perfect day to do it. It fell perfectly.

Funnily enough, she had watched and carefully taken notes about her habits and her life. The entire month of October she sent her messages, with no apparent rhyme or meaning to them, unless Lily really thought about it. They were basically nonsense, but she had skillfully added details and tidbits that would make sense.

_Terrible days are heading your way. Better bring an umbrella. Maybe a knife too. _Her sister had puzzled over the notes, spending much of her time thinking about what they meant. She had used a line from a poem her sister hated when she was younger, it was the only line Aurora remembered but she knew that it had had the desired effect on her sister.

It had been enough, she had been picked on by Special Agent Tyler for being so absentminded but as she had thought her sister didn't tell anyone about the notes. Which was just like her, always independent.

Special Agent Tyler loved pinching her upper arms and teasing her. She hadn't heard the comments from watching from far away but the appalled look on her sister's face was enough to make her believe it was a ridiculous or inappropriate comment.

She had watched the same members of Gibbs team act the same way around DiNozzo. He acted like Martin Tyler. He had the easy banter with the girl with the accent and they both often ganged up on the red haired man. The one with gray hair, Gibbs, never partook in their easygoing style and instead watched from afar, going in for the punishment after enjoying his own laugh.

She closed her eyes, picturing in her mind what the finished painting was supposed to look like. She had already sketched out the finer details but now she was actually painting. It was going to be a picture of the cottage, her sissy died in. The thin adobe brown walls were a reddish brown, the one she prepared for before. The roof was a more difficult color to mix. It was a shade darker than the walls but then she needed to think of the shadows. It was going to be night, but with a bright moon it meant slight shadows.

She almost felt bad. It was her sister. No matter how mad she made her, she couldn't help but feel a little bad about murdering her.

Well, a little tiny, really small bit of her soul might have broken with the crack of the bullet breaking her bloodied sister's skull. It wasn't like she was getting soft; she just felt complete mixed emotions.

She had never fully assembled her emotional barrier and every so often at a time of great emotional strain bits of emotions trickled out into the open.

She wasn't sure what was the most telling—visible—emotion. It wasn't relief; she didn't feel relaxed that her sister was finally out of her hair, not when the feds were sniffing her up and down. Maybe it was more anxiety.

Fear. That was the real biggie.

She added a burgundy red trail of paint down from the window ledge of the basement. It was to act as the blood, before it set and stained the grass forever a mahogany color.

Right now as she painted in the slowly rising light of the moon, she was afraid. Aurora closed her and nipped the end of her slice of pizza. She knew she shouldn't have trusted James with such an important job. He was too bigheaded, too proud of himself. But he had been the only one that liked the idea of helping out with her planned murder. He was a follower, who followed her every command and her meticulous plan for the murder. He had pulled it off without a hitch.

But then there was his small issue of keeping his mouth shut. That was always a bit of a problem.

James had almost a persistent urge to tell everyone the part he played, no matter how much trouble it brought him. He was just that type of person. It was a shame really. He was a fantastic follower and did exactly what she told him. Yes, it was a pity he would have to spend some time in jail for helping her with the murder.

If he had told them exactly what happened they would probably be waiting to find the right way to take her into interrogation.

She slopped some paint of the fake wood floor, swearing softly. She missed the painting in her musings. She was getting jumpy, it wasn't going to happen.

It seemed almost coincidental that the door bell rang at the exact moment she had been thinking about the feds arresting her.

_It couldn't be them. They don't know anything. _

Brushing her out of her eyes and accidentally getting red paint on her forehead, she moved away from her painting. She stopped for less than a minute to admire it. In the forty minutes she had painted, it had come out quite good.

Colorfully crafted in deep blues and blacks, the sky was rich and lifelike. The forestry was a deeper jade than the small amount of grass covering the clay and dirt path leading up to the small cottage. The cottage itself was a dark brown with small windows framed in a golden chipping brown. Of course the final touch was the light burgundy puddle by the smallest window at the bottommost of the cottage. The window was lightly coated in yellowish paint making it appear as if a candle was lit inside the room as it had been when she had walked the path to end her sister's life.

She moved away from the project, it needed time to dry. She approached the door, not aware of the paint covering her arms and now her face.

Peering through the eyehole, she couldn't help but be a little shocked when she saw the person she wanted. It was unexpected but definitely not uninvited.

She reached up and unlocked the many locks, opening the door. She smiled daringly at the man and reached to take the bouquet of roses he had in his outreached hands.

She tossed the bouquet arbitrarily on her kitchen table as she puckered her lips and leaned into his kiss. As the kiss intensified they ate at each other, all the while just about ripping his shirt and her sweater.

_She hated to admit it but for a fed, he was an amazing kisser._

* * *

So how does another two or three chapters sound? I'm trying to feel around for how fast these chapters are moving since i sometimes get very caught up and forget that I aimed to get another four things done in one chapter so it's basically a touch and go about the length of these chapters but I'm so grateful for all of you that have stuck with this story! 

Ooh by the way, these chapters are going to take much longer because school started up again and most of you readers know how terrible teachers feel about homework and testing. Thanks to sharkysheep for betaing.

Remember to review!

Luvs, Ari


	9. Things I want to Do

**I Can't Be Perfect…Tigerlily1221**

**Disclaimer: No big bucks yet…so its still not mine.**

**Since my beta is MIA, I'm just going to update. I've been waiting for over 2 months without any emails of any type of comment so I don't know what to do. So if this isn't up to my standards just hope for the best next post.**

**Enjoy!!**

**Chapter 9-** **Things I Want to Do**

A man carefully shadowed in the shrubbery and tall trees that surrounded the large apartment complex ducked out of the small black Camry parked in the parking lot behind the building.

He mumbled under his breath, flattening down the collar on his smart black button up shirt. The lapel pin, a small American flag, was the only thing that brightened his dark suit. He stopped short about a foot from the propped open door leading into a mailroom and a large staircase.

He flattened his hair and breathed deeply. Standing up straight, he masked his expressions with a sexy smirk that only worked for his handsome features.

He played with the watch that he wore on his right wrist, twisting the dial until the small second hand had spun around twelve twice. He lifted the hand up to his mouth, pretending to cough he spoke into the hand.

"Can you hear me now?" he smiled at the exact quote that his technological lady had insisted he use.

He thought it was ridiculously stupid to be in the house without anything but the recorder, but it needed to be done. Instead of replaying the set "instructions" through his mind again, he paid attention to the two women who were standing and chatting easily at the metal boxes, each pausing in their talk to look him over and wink at him before eyeing each other with suspicious expressions.

He smiled at them and walked up the first staircasepast another stack of metal mailboxes. A woman he recognized, pulled down the newspaper which covered her mouth and nose. She cocked her eyebrows and smiled. He grinned back, somewhatwarily. he shook his head continuing onward, skipping two steps at a time. It was time to have some fun.

He just wished he knew who was going to have the fun.

* * *

A young woman with silky black hair tied up in pigtails paced the length of the room. Her shoes pounded the linoleum tiles but she paid no attention to the sound, as did the other person in the room.

There was no head banging music, no slurps from a coffee, no rings of a cell phone. She flung herself at the chair beside the desk and the absentminded man beside her.

"He shouldn't have to do this," she murmured playing with a loose thread on her red shirt. The man beside her sniffed and slouched farther into the other seat.

"No kidding. I should be out there with them. I wasn't anymore attached to her than them. It's not fair." He made a face. "I don't get why he gets to go in though. That's just wrong."

The woman swirled her chair around. "I know you're mad but he volunteered, and he's more experienced at this stuff than you. You know it, Marty."

"Sure but still." The woman smirked in realization.

"You're just pissed that its not you that's going in for revenge." She flung the black pigtails over her shoulders as she turned her back to him to look at the data spitting out of her fax machine. "Hmmm. That's very interesting."

The man beside her stood up stretching. "What is?" The woman raised her eyebrows as she passed the papers over to him. The man rubbed his eyes and narrowed his lowered his brow as he tried to focus his sleep deprived eyes on the facts.

"That's lovely. So she killed her too. How did he think to look at her?" he muttered, flipping the page.

"Actually I think Ducky suggested that we exhume the body for examination." She smiled brightly. "That psychology degree is making him very helpful for cases."

He frowned. "But anyway. We need to tell Gibbs. She's killed twice, she won't afraid to do it again." He grinned sheepishly. "So want to draw straws to see who's gonna tell him?" she raised her eyebrows. "What? He's god damn scary and I don't want to be the one that has to tell him that his man is unarmed and unreachable in a psycho's house."

She looked up sharply and with narrowed eyes she inhaled tightly trying to calm herself from lashing out and hitting the man in front of her.

"Let's just hope that's not true. He has to be smarter than that." She murmured reaching for the phone and the four pre-cut straws lying on the table. "You first."

* * *

Beside her in the driver's seat, an older man sat with a pair of binoculars in his lap. He wasn't paying any attention to her just rotating between looking through the binoculars and glancing at his cell phone.

She tapped her fingers against her leg impatiently. She didn't know why she honestly chose to stay with him. At least with the other duo across the parking lot, the group keeping an eye on the back way out, she would have been able to have a civilized conversation while still watching for her.

Despite her position she shivered thinking of the petite black haired young woman. How could sweet Lily have such a dangerous sister? They were like night and day.

She wasn't afraid of the woman; she had fought far more experienced and dangerous criminals in all her years with the military to be frightened of such an unstructured killer.

She was afraid for her partner. He had volunteered to go undercover without any means of communication or a weapon.

What a stupidly clever, selfless man.

It _was_ the only way though. The evidence was only circumstantial and theories didn't hold up too well with judges. There was no way that without solid evidence or a full confession, the woman would be sent to jail for the two murders she definitely had committed. She would get away scratch free while her sister's murder was chalked up as unsolved.

And so he had to risk his life to catch her. Sure it wasn't a big deal when he was safely tucked into headquarters, but the second he stepped into the uncharted waters of Aurora's home, he was basically killing himself.

Who knew if she had an arsenal of weapons hidden under the loose wooden planks on her hallway. She wouldn't find out.

Not only had he wanted to go undercover, he needed the thrill and the safety of being a different person. He had held a convincing argument, she had been attracted to him and if he stroked her self-esteem she was bound to break and tell him.

He had already planned most of it. Feed her some bull about being sick of NCIS and needing a release. And she just happened to be the sexy available target. He would just happen to need the thrill of being daring and breaking the rules by having a personal relationship with the suspect of a murder.

So smart but so risky.

Really risky, it seemed. It had to be for the man beside her to be so silent. She knew that he was quietly sweating his decision. He had given in rather reluctantly, but he had agreed nonetheless. He was just as worried as she was. The man had evaded using a wire with his clever use of changing the subject. He did have a recorder but that didn't mean that they could tell him to get the hell out of the way when the psychotic woman came after him.

He had to be nuts to having that much faith in himself.

She thought carefully. After the fiasco with "The Frog" and the disastrous effects of Jeanne Benoit, he had taken to testing himself. He would push himself to his limits each time trying to prove himself to the leader and the entire team. Unfortunately, he hadn't needed to, they all knew he was a very capable man and clever.

Even worse was that he knew that and still felt compelled to show it. He needed to almost clear his conscious after killing Ms. Benoit that he was still capable and not affected by the results of the murder.

She sincerely hoped that tonight he would at least try to stay safe. It was no time for heroics, the only person that needed to be saved was him.

The man pushed the buzzer, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt for the last time. He absolutely had to make sure that the watch was not covered or the operation was worthless.

He breathed deeply, adrenaline already waking him up in inside, riling up the energy that ran most of the ops. This was it, the big job. After tonight, that was it, Aurora McNamara was going to be gone.

The door burst open revealing a frazzled tall woman. Her eyes widened in surprise and then her eyes lit up and her mouth curved into a smile.

She was a beautiful woman even with red paint covering a majority of her skin. The paint didn't stop his eyes from traveling to her V-neck three quarter sleeve shirt or the bare skin that was visible from just above her low rise pants every time she lifted her arms higher than his chest.

He lifted the bouquet of flowers that he held in his hand, deep blood red roses. She accepted them and not even lifting them to her face she tossed them onto the kitchen table. She slid closer to him, her arms encasing his body as she pulled him into her apartment slamming the door with her foot.

He returned the kiss passionately but couldn't help but tense as his finger slid across the serrated blade of a knife tucked into her belt loop.

The tiny blood drops fell to the floor gracefully, gently falling like heavy raindrops.

_Splat splat splat._

* * *

Oh, by the way, I would love to thank every single person for reviewing even though it's been a long time. It's so amazing to know that people like my writing even when I'm caught on whether or not it's good.

Thank you so much,

Ari

PS- check out Losing Innocence if you haven't already


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